


for a minute

by thchateaus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cunnilingus, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Monica has Powers, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Kink, Vaginal Sex, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, is that a thing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29544534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thchateaus/pseuds/thchateaus
Summary: “What? What could you possibly have to offer me?”This fic follows after that line in 1x05, but it goes in a completely differently direction.—Wanda and Monica find solace in each other. Or something.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Monica Rambeau
Comments: 5
Kudos: 85





	for a minute

**Author's Note:**

> hi this was mostly written after episode five but i just finished it up.
> 
> in my defence - i am a lesbian. you give me two hot women with enemies to lovers potential and i want to see them kiss. not my fault.
> 
> this isn’t beta’d or anything so apologies for any mistakes!
> 
> (also i know next to nothing about how their powers work except that they’re hot so just go with it)

“How? What could you possibly have to offer me?”

Monica pauses. Not physically, she carries on walking toward Wanda, who watches her warily. But that red hex doesn’t move from low at her side.

Wanda’s gaze flickers from Monica and behind her, the dozens of goons with their sights on her, and Monica lifts a hand. 

“Stand down,” She says, even as Hayward barks orders over her head, and Wanda’s head tilts.

Now that Monica is so close, she notices petulant tears in Wanda’s eyes that threaten to spill over. They probably would if she wasn’t standing with her teeth bared and jaw clenched.

“I just want to help you.” 

Wanda lifts a hand and flicks toward Hayward. He drops to his knees as if something had physically hit him - which checks out. She didn’t know much about Wanda’s abilities, but she knew firsthand just how powerful they could be. How they still lingered over her.

Even if they’d protected her, she couldn’t shake the unease she’s felt for days. Whether it’d been her own or Wanda’s or a combination, she had no idea. But they were still there, in some way, she could feel it.

Hayward crashes to the floor with a noise.

“I only talk to you,” Wanda lifts her chin, defiant, uncaring of the soldiers closing in on her. 

Monica swallows. She nods, calling for the men to stand down again. A couple do, still wary as their boss lay unconscious on the floor, and Wanda curls another finger.

They stand down, and the crowd parts as the men go about their way. 

Darcy gawks at her, and Monica shakes her head, hoping to god she gets the message and leaves.

If Wanda is this hostile, and by some miracle wanting to engage with Monica, anyone else is definitely gonna tip her over the edge.

But she could handle this. 

Wanda narrows the space between them for her, regarding her with narrow eyes. They glisten still, and glow red in replacement of the currents vanished from her palm.

Monica turns her head. “My quarters are this way. We can talk there, alright?”

“Fine.” 

Monica starts her way forward, in disbelief that their subject of interest is _just_ _there._ She should report her in. She doesn’t know why she hasn’t. Maybe Jimmy already did. 

“Something is different about you,” Wanda murmurs behind her. “I can’t figure it out.”

“Maybe it's you not being in my head.”

Wanda follows her in silence after that, gaze fixed on her as her eyes continue to glow. The men scattered about the grounds don’t look their way, and she realises very quickly why that is.

“You don’t need to do that,” She tries, stopping at the entrance to her quarters. They’re pretty bare, a glorified tent if anything, but she’s grateful she even has them.

“They’ll kill me if I don’t, won’t they?” Wanda asks, says like it's fact, and Monica’s stomach twists because, yeah. It's probably true.

“Did you kill him?”

She’s not sure if she wants to know the answer to that.

Wanda purses her lips, heading inside before Monica.

“I should’ve.”

“Why?”

Wanda falters, appearing suddenly vulnerable under awful, artificial lights. Monica hated them. She’d barely been in here herself once they’d discharged her.

It felt more like a hospital wing.

“You were gone for years, too, I saw it. Why do you think they changed the objective of the place while you were gone to creating weapons?”

She didn’t have an answer for that.

Something had felt off about Hayward today, namely his branding Wanda as a terrorist. It’d bothered her more than whatever was actually going on with her.

“They had his body in pieces,” Wanda continues in a lower register, hands clasped together as they shook. “His head on a table. Men in hazmats experimenting on him.”

“That’s..” Monica shakes her head. “You’re telling the truth?” 

Hayward couldn’t have allowed that, could he? 

“He let me walk in,” Wanda looks directly at her, throat bobbing. Her front was slipping. “He let me find him.”

“My mom worked beside him all my life. _I did._ I don’t understand why he would do this. It makes no sense,” She thinks back to earlier that day. “Why _did_ he fire at you?”

Wanda scoffs, taking in the monitors at the end of the room. Her lab results are open on one, a scarce reminder something was wrong. She could only hide them from Jimmy and Darcy for so long, she knew _they_ knew something was up. 

“When I volunteered for SHIELD, I wanted revenge on the man who killed my parents. And they moulded me and Pietro into weapons. I didn’t know they were Hydra, nobody did. So how could you have known that he was..” 

“A shady dick?”

Wanda narrows her eyes. “You don’t buy it.” 

I didn’t say I don’t believe you,” Monica insists, stepping away from the doorway. She approaches Wanda with her palms open. She settles one atop Wanda’s clenched fists. Wanda says nothing. 

“Say you’re right and he needs stopping,” Wanda sags, and she grasps Monica’s hand. “I can’t do anything by myself, not without proof.”

“You’re not the only one who suspects something,” Wanda mumbles, and looks up at her blearily. She’s teetering on exhaustion, and after a week of shifting reality, Monica’s not sure how she’s lasted this long. “The FBI guy and the woman. She knows her way around a computer, doesn’t she?”

Monica didn’t know that. She barely knew _Darcy._ She’d have to bring it up to her and Jimmy, if given the chance.

“Sit down,” She says instead, gently nudging Wanda toward the cot nearby. It was still pristine with the comforter tucked in and pillows untouched. She hadn’t been near it.

She would use the excuse of adrenaline, maybe the hex messing with her, but she just couldn’t sleep. Not unless she wanted that ward and her mother’s memoriam plaque to join her.

“I didn’t follow you here to rest,” She sits anyway, slumping forward. 

“I think you should,” Monica raises a brow.

“You shouldn’t even be helping me,” Wanda frowns, hand twitching in Monica’s.

“You protected me, Wanda, let me pay it forward.”

“And how are you going to do that? Doesn’t everyone out there want me dead?” 

Monica shakes her head. “I don’t.”

Wanda’s face twitches with something that might be a smile. 

“Maybe I just think you deserve someone in your corner.”

Wanda looks down to her lap, frame withdrawn. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Well, you don’t get to decide for me,” Monica narrows her eyes, “You protected me, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you but I could’ve. And you don’t care?”

“You could’ve just killed me when you threw me out. But you chose not to.” 

Wanda’s squint is all the confirmation she needs. It's probably weird to feel hope because of it.

“Why not?”

Wanda’s mouth opens and closes.

“I don’t know.”

A foreign warmth in her palm cuts the conversation off, and when she looks down, that ball of red energy is between their palms. That’s not what gets Monica.

No, it’s the magic vining up her forearm and disappearing entirely.

“I knew there was something different,” Wanda says in awe, fingers twitching as the ball darkens. 

Monica barely feels it, like static or something similar. An itch, maybe. More of an irritant than anything. 

“Huh,” Monica says, dumbfounded. “What the hell.”

Wanda’s fingers skirt up her arm, thumb tracing the area where red shifts into white and disappears into her skin.

“I didn’t do this.”

Wanda’s other hand hovers over the area she’d focused most of her energy on when she’d thrown Monica out. She tugs at the zip of her jacket, casting a look up for Monica’s okay. She nods, brows furrowed. 

“No, I think I did.”

Wanda pushes the jacket to Monica’s shoulders, out of the way, and her palm finds the centre of her chest. 

Wanda’s eyes slip shut as she touches Monica’s bare skin with care. Her hand is warm, if anything, and it makes Monica shiver. 

When she looks up, Wanda’s entire being is framed by a red haze. 

“I can feel you,” Wanda says, distractedly, lips quirked. 

Monica feels frozen to the spot, growing more lost by the second. She curls her hand around Wanda’s on her chest. Even she can see the level of magic surging from her. 

Still, she feels nothing.

“What is it?”

Wanda’s eyes flutter open, and she meets Monica’s gaze with the kind of intensity that makes her shiver for an entirely different reason. 

“You don’t feel this?” She’s bewildered, her teeth in her lip. “You’re absorbing all of me. Something’s… I think something in you is embracing it.”

Monica’s brows twitch, “I am?”

Wanda laughs, shifting closer to her. She lets go of Monica’s other hand to focus an energy beam at her. 

“It's beautiful,” Wanda says, like it's obvious.

She’s having a hard time grasping any of this. She knew her lab results were skewed, that something was weird. But she hadn’t suspected _this._

“How?”

“I don’t know,” Wanda’s eyes flash red, and Monica feels a chill. Her jacket is gone suddenly, like it always ceased to exist. “It feels… it's like they’re merging, almost.”

“The hex,” Monica says, absentminded, her intrigue growing the more Wanda palms at her. 

“Maybe,” Wanda agrees, gentle with wonder. She feels Wanda’s fingers twitch against her chest, and gasps at the abrupt feeling that twists inside her.

It's like Wanda has switched on a current, and now her energy thrums within her veins. 

“Oh,” She comments, reaching out to touch Wanda’s cheek. That current only grows stronger, as though it beat in time with her heart, and thrums from her palm. Wanda groans.

“Do you see?” She explains, voice high. Monica flusters at Wanda’s state, follows the way she sucks her lip into her mouth, and something else entirely courses through her. “You’re reverting it back to me.” 

“I’m like you?”

Wanda hums, nudging closer as unsubtly as possible. Her eyes are dark where they dip to her mouth. 

“Yes.”

She thumbs Wanda’s cheekbone, a searing current following, and warmth spreads through Monica. Wanda’s head dips, lips hovering over Monica’s as she exhales shakily. 

Monica saves them both the time, and the conversation, and leans in to kiss her. Wanda sighs like it's a languid thing, opening her mouth up to Monica.

It's dizzying, the slide of their mouths and the vivid energy passing between them. It's like their abilities - whatever the hell Monica’s was - were merging with each they share. It just elevates it all.

Wanda’s hand finds her nape as leverage to angle her face, pressing harder against her mouth. 

A thought strikes Monica at that, one that probably wouldn’t work, but she wanted to tug on the thread regardless.

She lifts her hand from Wanda’s face, sliding it into her hair instead. She imagines that energy escaping her fingertips and finding Wanda’s scalp.

Wanda whines into her mouth, a muffled, pretty thing, and it seems it worked. She jolts when she feels the press of a thigh between her own. 

“Jesus,” Their lips smack as Monica pulls away, heaving as Wanda’s mouth finds her jaw instead.

Her skin thrums with every open kiss, an undercurrent that only grows stronger with each. Still, she blinks hazardously, runs a hand over her face.

“Maybe we should think about this for a second, Wanda.”

Wanda sits back, flicking a digit. Her coat and boots appear on the desk across the room. Folded and neat.

“I don’t have to think about it,” She licks her lips, choosing to physically unzip her corset by hand. “Do you want this or not?”

“What is this?” Monica tries to see reason, she does. It's just hard to resist at all when Wanda is just a couple inches away. It’d be so easy to touch her, reach out to her. To the first good thing since the blip. “You have a family.”

Wanda falters for a second.

“Not for long,” is her only answer, and that sadness is just as quickly swallowed up by her desire. “This is real. You’re real.”

“Yeah,” Monica understands, then. She reaches out to her, mouth hovering above Wanda’s. “Yeah, I am.”

Wanda surges into it, clambering into her lap.

Monica no longer feels bad about just how badly she wants her. 

She had since they’d first met, if she was honest. Even under Wanda’s influence, she’d intrigued Monica, and somewhere between the magic show and the twins, something genuine had grown. Hearing her talk about her grief had solidified she felt some level of care for her, and leaving the hex under her protection emboldened it. 

She thought it was all in her head. Evidently, that hadn’t turned out to be true.

Wanda bites at her lip, bucks her hips into Monica’s hip when she hisses. Monica sucks at the tongue that probes her mouth in apology, keens herself at the _uh-uh-uh_ ’s that Wanda pants. 

“I want to touch you,” She manages between kisses. “That okay?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Wanda’s lips are spit slick and swollen, and Monica throbs. “Please.”

Any level of care for the world beyond the door or the hex itself dissipates at that, and she embraces the selfishness. The simmering curl of her stomach and the ache between her legs.

“Where?” She cups Wanda’s face momentarily, her leaning into it. 

Instead of answering, Wanda guides her hand to her chest. Her own slips to her waistband, fiddling with the buttons there. She finds it sweet, weirdly, that she isn’t just relying on her powers.

Monica thumbs her nipple, and Wanda squirms atop her thigh. She steals another kiss, pressing her tongue to Monica’s. 

Monica’s brain feels like it's turned to mush when Wanda lifts up to tug her pants down to her knees.

“Let me try,” She grasps Wanda by the hips, lifting her so as to lay her back. It's easier to tug the leather down entirely that way, and she doesn’t miss the heave of Wanda’s bare chest. 

“Huh,” Wanda’s smile is almost shy, and she would believe it if it wasn’t immediately followed by a hand snaking between her legs.

Monica inhales something sharp, leaning down to kiss Wanda again. She trails her hand down to her panties and presses her palm down on Wanda’s over the cotton.

Wanda jolts at that. She circles her hips ever so slowly, watching Monica in a focused stare, and she feels frozen. She’s suddenly hyper aware that she’s never been near another woman before. Not like this. 

“Me either,” Wanda’s eyes are soft, and her brows furrow. “Don’t freak out.”

Between one blink and the next, Monica finds herself being laid back instead, with Wanda knelt between her legs.

“Can I touch you?” 

“Yeah, shit,” Monica clears her throat of hoarseness, very, _very_ on board with the change of events. “What are you waiting for?”

Wanda quirks her head with a smirk.

Her hands find Monica’s thighs first, spreading them herself as she palms them. She trails them further until she’s at her belt clasp. She makes sure to find Monica’s gaze again as she tugs it open. 

“You’re sure about this?”

“It's a little late for that,” Monica smiles, but nods anyway. “C’mon.”

“Okay,” Wanda tries pry open her jeans. They don’t budge, and she huffs a quiet, frustrated noise. 

Monica shuts her eyes, imagines the brightness of her scan, and opens them to her body being an entire matter of white. It glows all over her body, something like the energy that resides in Wanda’s palm, and she gasps.

“Holy shit,” She finds Wanda’s face slack with wonder. She touches Monica’s bare torso, tentative, and something that looks an awful lot like lightning washes over her arm.

It resides as quickly as it appeared, and as it does, her clothes appear scattered about the room with it.

“Fuck,” Wanda bites her lip. She drags her hand down Monica’s bare torso before once again parting her legs. “You’re amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” Her head lolls to her shoulder. Doing that had taken something out of her, which. Yeah _._ What the fuck was that?

Wanda licks her thumb before bringing it directly to Monica’s clit, no tension about it, and immediately rubs it in a circular motion.

“Oh, _Jesus,”_ Monica groans, and sees Wanda’s tongue wet her lips. She wants it inside her. Wanda grins.

She doesn’t need to say anything. The promise of that is a given.

Her finger dips, just about breaches Monica’s entrance. She hums as Monica bucks down onto it, and lowers her head.

Monica’s breath hitches as Wanda continues to toy with her clit as a wet heat reaches her entrance. 

There’s a firm press of Wanda’s tongue there before she works a wet stripe from it to her clit. Her mouth replaces her thumb, and Monica squirms through a whine. 

Wanda smirks as she does, tongue swirling around her centre with a hum. 

“Wanda,” Her voice cracks, and the sight of Wanda looking up between her legs makes her throb around nothing.

“Is it okay?”

A half-laugh escapes her, a little crazed, and she nods. She reaches a hand to Wanda’s hair, strokes back the strands that stick to her forehead.

“It's just new,” She grins as Wanda does. Her stomach dances as Wanda pushes into her hand. “I’ve never had a guy do this before.”

Truth be told, this is the first good thing that’s happened to her in weeks, since the blip. Probably even before that. 

“No?” Wanda thumbs her inner thigh, the corner of her lips quirked. “You think you can come on my face?”

Monica’s eyes widen and all she can do is nod.

“Is that a promise?” Wanda teases, and dives back in without waiting for an answer. 

She licks at Monica like she’s starved for it, suckles at her clit between each, and takes her time with it. It's infuriating, and so fucking _good._

Dazed, her hand actually slips into Wanda’s hair. She grips it, lightly, and uses it as leverage to grind up and against her mouth. 

Wanda moans, devotes a generous moment to suck at her with abandon. She doesn’t let up, even when Monica’s hand tightens, and pleasure ripples through her.

“I want to get inside you, do you want that?”

Monica lets her grasp of Wanda’s hair and the dragging her mouth back to her clit answer that.

Red energy washes over Wanda and it's like a violent current through Monica, pulsates inside her too. Her eyes roll back.

Wanda’s index finger circles her entrance before pushing in. It curls as it does, in time with another wet stripe up between her folds, and Monica’s back arches. 

“Oh my god,” Her throat is dry, hoarse, like all her breath has been dragged out of it, “Please.”

Wanda hums against her. She lifts her head enough to speak, hot breath against her core. 

“Please, what?”

” _More,_ ” She doesn’t even know what she’s asking for. It's too much and not enough; she could stay like this forever. At her will. 

“Okay,” Wanda presses an open kiss to her clit, watching Monica as she does. She’s shaking at this point, grip slipping in her hair, and lets it fall to the comforter.

It's odd. She never thought being at someone’s will like this would affect her so much. The ability to just _let_ _go._ To feel.

Maybe it was just Wanda.

The digit crooks inside her with every thrust now, finding a point that makes her shake. A second enters with it, and each thrust, each stripe of her tongue, blurs into one.

She comes out of nowhere, or maybe it's been a slowly-building crescent all this time, but she screams with it. 

The lights above promptly go out with the glass seals exploding. 

Wanda doesn’t let up, and she gives a few, weak thrusts against her face. She’s determined to ride the wave as long as she can, and finds her body once again erupted in light. 

Wanda shoves a hand between her own legs, climbing up Monica’s body to kiss her. Wanda parts Monica’s lips and her tongue presses inside. It's weird, tasting herself, but Wanda’s whines are a good distraction.

She gives up fingering herself to grind against Monica’s thigh. She can feel the point they connect, her powers and Wanda’s core, and she surprises herself by moaning too.

“Yeah?” Wanda asks, breathless. “You wanna go again?”

She nods with anticipation, still throbbing from her orgasm, and tugs her into another kiss. It's more a panting into each other’s mouths, and Wanda sucking at her lip as she fucks two fingers back into her, but. Semantics.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Wanda sounds as fucked out as her, hastily grinding against the meat of her thigh with her legs either side of Monica’s right. 

“Uh-huh,” Monica’s eyes roll back at the sudden heat inside her. Wanda’s energy, and it's devoted to her.

“Touch me,” Wanda says above her, eyes wild, and Monica doesn’t have to think about complying. She halts the automated grind of her hips for a moment, feels blindly for Wanda.

She finds her forearm. She squeezes, thumb climbing a vein.

“What do you want?”

Wanda’s lashes flutter as she watches the hand on her, at her wrist now, and her thrusts into Monica slow down.

“You asked me already,” Wanda says, as gentle as it is heartbreaking. “I just want this.”

Monica shakes her head. Holds Wanda by the small of her back and sits up against the headboard. Wanda fumbles, and Monica presses her mouth to Wanda’s.

“Sit up,” She says between the kisses Wanda drowns in, encouraging her onto her lap.

Wanda does, gingerly so, and she’s surprised to find her flushed _._

“What now?”

Monica smiles, pulling back to look Wanda in the eye. “You let me help you.” 

Wanda’s nod is delayed, but she complies when Monica nudges her legs open. She straddles her with her knees either side of Monica’s lap.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing. Not really. But it's not exactly rocket science compared to getting _herself_ off. And it feels like it's more than that, with the way Wanda’s still watching her.

She brings her finger to dip between Wanda’s folds, tentative, and finds it wet. Keeping her attention on Wanda’s reaction, she presses her palm down against her clit and her first knuckle inside her entrance.

Wanda gives a high-pitched sigh, eyes slipping shut. Monica ventures in further as she grinds her palm down, and watches Wanda buck down to take more of her.

“You’re really good at that,” Wanda says, breathless, hands clamouring for stability. They find Monica’s shoulders. She grips them as she grinds down, setting a faster pace, and Monica groans herself.

“Yeah?” Wanda’s eyes flutter open to settle on her. It makes her chest flutter and her walls throb around nothing. She releases her hold of Wanda to shove two fingers inside herself.

“Sweetheart,” She surprises even herself at that, and Wanda whimpers. Her forehead falls below Monica’s jaw as she increases speed. “That’s it. Just take what you need.”

“Not gonna last much longer,” She sucks at Monica’s pulse point, “You gonna come again?” 

She gives up any pretence of preserving this. She fucks up as Wanda grinds down, and the rhythm of their hips makes her groan.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah I am,” Her head rolls back as Wanda’s hand falls to her breast. She squeezes, rolls her nipple between two fingers.

“Come on,” The gyrate of Wanda’s hips has lost any semblance of a pattern, just sporadic bounces in Monica’s lap as her moans increase in fervour.

Monica strokes herself faster to them, insistent on matching her pace, and her eyes roll back.

Wanda bites down on her shoulder as she comes over Monica’s hand and Monica herself, canting through it with gasps of Monica’s name.

It's that that does it for her, and when Wanda recognises she’s about to come too, she sucks her lobe between her teeth.

Sweet, harsh nothings are whispered in her ear as she shudders through another orgasm. She throbs around her own digits as she does, finds Wanda’s own rubbing at her clit through it. 

Just that sight makes her clench, even mid-orgasm. 

It's only when it gets too much that she tugs at Wanda’s wrist. She goes with it, instead flopping down beside her on the sheets.

No longer pristine and perfect, she thinks.

“Wanda?” Monica heaves through her next couple breaths, finding Wanda’s hand to squeeze it. 

Wanda blinks up at her, blearily, and her chest aches a little.

“I don’t suppose you can magic up a washcloth?”

Wanda hides her laugh in her shoulder. “Out of my skillset.” 

Monica grins too, her brain like liquid. “There’s a sink back there, somewhere.”

“Maybe in a moment,” Wanda swallows, tentatively lying beside her as if that crossed a line somehow.

Monica closes her eyes. Just for a second.

* * *

It's morning when she wakes up to an empty bed, fully-clothed and clean.

She should’ve been expecting this, shouldn’t she?

Yet it still hurt.

Huh.

Casting a look about the room, she finds it in perfect condition. It's almost like last night never happened at all.

The only evidence is the singed corner of her shirt. That she had magic’d off. With powers she now apparently had.

She needed to find Jimmy and Darcy.

The base is normal too, with dozens of men flitting about between buildings. 

It's the hex that catches her eye. It's red now. A huge, angry glitch. There was no guessing how _that_ came to be.

She finds Darcy and Jimmy inside at the main station where the televisions reside. It's just the two of them, thankfully, and they speak before she can.

” _Dude,_ why didn’t you tell us?”

She falters at that. “Tell you, uh. Tell you what?”

“The hex,” Jimmy supplies. Takes a sip of his coffee. “Word is you saw what happened then she knocked everybody out. That true?”

Monica takes the third coffee that Darcy hands over without a word, grateful. Swallows a blistering mouthful and ignores the hitch in her stomach. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it's true. Did Hayward drag you in here to say that?”

“That and a load of bullshit,” Darcy frowns. She gestures at the screen as the laugh track plays. “He thinks she’s gonna kill him.”

“She should’ve,” She watches Wanda hand out candy to children in the town square. “I have something I need to tell you.”

On another screen, the moment of Wanda breaking the glass to Hayward’s lab loops, and Vision’s body parts catch her eye.

They let her in. 

“I’m all ears,” Jimmy smiles with it, following Monica’s gaze to the lab footage. 

“Me too.” 

“It's about Hayward.”

**Author's Note:**

> i love u monica rambeau and wanda maximoff <3 pls seek therapy


End file.
